


drive it like you stole it

by embraidery



Category: Chronicles of Narnia - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, American AU, Don't @ Me, Gen, Running Away, Teenage Rebellion, shipping goggles optional but highly recommended
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-04
Updated: 2020-10-04
Packaged: 2021-03-07 22:34:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,444
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26815183
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/embraidery/pseuds/embraidery
Summary: Edmund and Caspian run away for the day.
Relationships: Caspian & Edmund Pevensie
Comments: 2
Kudos: 7





	drive it like you stole it

Edmund bought a lighter from the convenience store last week. He thought it might help him feel like one day he could be kind of cool. He flicks it now and watches the tiny flame flicker. He doesn't have anything to burn, so he drops the lighter down the side of the halfpipe, watches it clatter down the concrete.

Caspian turns his ring round and round his finger. It was his dad's wedding band, 20 karat gold, the good stuff. It used to have a nick in it where his dad hit it on something and never got it fixed, but Caspian touched it so often he wore it smooth, like the flat places on the soles of his chucks.

"Sometimes I wanna just run away," Caspian says out of the blue. He’s said it many times before.

Edmund makes an ambiguous noise of assent.

"Wouldn't that be good?"

Edmund rolls over onto his back from where he'd been on his stomach, chin propped in his elbows. He squints his eyes against the sun. "Let's do it."

"What?"

"Let's do it. Let's run away."

-

Caspian has $72.56 in a cleaned-out soda can in his sock drawer, another $312.43 in his Teen's First Saving Account, squirreled away from years of Christmas money and shoveling snow. He's good at saving.

Edmund isn't. He has $30.17 in his piggy bank and $12 in his wallet that he's supposed to give back to his dad after buying movie tickets and one (1) small popcorn for him and Lucy at the cinema the next town over.

They take out the $300 and buy bus tickets to the nearest city.

-

Edmund calls his dad on the Greyhound, tells him he'll be spending the night at Caspian's so they can work on a project. Tells him Caspian's uncle said it was okay. They're practically attached at the hip, they do this all the time, so Edmund's dad isn't going to call and check.

They don't call Miraz to tell him anything.

-

They run into a bit of a problem at the motel when neither of them have grown-up ID and the clerk starts to wonder why two teenagers are there alone, but Caspian spins an expert tale about them being in Model UN and deciding to spend extra time in the city before heading back to school, gives her part of a speech on Mongolian economics, and she hands them the keys to their room.

"Dude!" Edmund bursts into laughter as they round the corner. "Genius. No one else could have made up those facts so fast."

"Oh, no, they're real." Caspian grins. "We just did Mongolia in World History. Want to hear some more?"

"Noooo!" Edmund shouts, running down the hallway towards their room, and Caspian runs after him, calling more Mongolian facts after him.

-

The only rooms left have queen beds, which is fine. Once upon a time Ed and Cas felt they needed to sleep separately, but they had sleepovers so often they got tired of dragging out the air mattress. 

Edmund dumps his backpack on the left side of the bed like always. "Too bad we didn't bring swimming suits." 

Caspian cocks his head, a mischievous twist to his mouth. "We could buy some." 

Edmund's eyes light up, until he remembers -- "Stores wouldn't be open now. We could go in our briefs."

-

It's 8 pm on a Tuesday and they have the motel pool to themselves. It feels deliciously rebellious to leave their shorts and t-shirts on the edge of the pool, diving into the clear cool water in their undies. 

Edmund thinks about the way Caspian's hair used to ripple out around him when they swam, like lacy seaweed or fan coral. It's cut short now, victim of boys at school with no imagination and an uncle who believes in Masculinity with a Capital M. Edmund gives Caspian's cropped head a noogie as he slams Caspian underwater.

Caspian wriggles out of his arms like a fish. He pops above the surface, gasping, before diving after Edmund with hands outstretched. Edmund lunges away, half out of the water, which pulls at him like molasses. Caspian pulls his legs out from under him and Edmund's underwater.

It's lovely down there. The water distorts the blue pool tiles into ever-changing shapes lined with a gentle yellow glow from the underwater lights.

\- 

Edmund takes off his glasses, polishes them on his shirt, sets them gently on the bedside table. He changes into his t-shirt and flannel pajama pants, having discarded matching pj sets a few years ago as "childish." He evaluates the two books he brought, deciding between them:  _ The Picture of Dorian Gray  _ and a book on ancient Rome.  _ Dorian  _ wins, of course. It makes for a shivery spooky bedtime read. 

It begins to rain as Edmund and Caspian climb into bed, light raindrops tapping out their song on the window. Cars whoosh by. Orange streetlamp light soaks in through the curtains, splashing its way across the mountains and valleys of their bodies under the covers. 

Caspian stretches and yawns before snuggling deeper into his pile of pillows. His bedside light is off and the lamp on Edmund's side throws Caspian's face into sharp relief. 

"I'm gonna read," Edmund says. It would barely sound like a question to anyone else, but Caspian knows what he means. 

"Go ahead." Caspian smiles, eyes closed. It's a bit early for him to sleep, really, considering their impulsively snatched freedom, but it's a comfortable bed.

-

Their bodies wake them up barely after their normal wake up time. It's nothing more than harmless habit, but they have to wash down acrid guilt with fruit juice at the continental breakfast bar. They toss a coin to decide who calls the school, heads Edmund tails Caspian, and it comes up tails. Good, because Caspian does a better adult voice. It’s much more effortless than Edmund’s practiced pretension. 

There is the stumbling block of only one call for two boys, but "Mr. Pevensie" says the boys had a sleepover at their house last night and came down with the same bug. At the last second he remembers to tell the secretary that he "lost his phone," and she'd better call his "temporary phone number." 

It's a masterpiece. Edmund gives Caspian a triumphant noogie after he hangs up.

-

"Should we hitchhike?" Caspian says, instantly wishing he hadn't, but Edmund has already agreed, so they walk out to the highway.

It's hot even in September, the asphalt shimmering under the sun, and they're bored after ten minutes of holding out their thumbs. There's a brief scare when a cop car cruises by.

"Oh yeah, this is illegal," Caspian reminds Edmund.

"Screw the cops!" Edmund says. "We gotta do this." 

A few minutes later, a car slows down and moves into the lane nearest the boys. They stand their ground for a moment before turning to run into the bushes.

"I woulda done it," Edmund asserts. "That guy just looked shady."

"Yeah, me too," Caspian echoes. "Greyhound again?"

-

They get as far as the Greyhound ticket office.

The Model UN story doesn’t work this time; the attendant turns them away with a shake of the head. The boys settle onto a bench outside the bus station. It’s blissfully cool in the shade. Edmund thumps his head back against the brick wall.

“I have a civics test on Friday,” Caspian sighs.

“Yeah.” 

They exchange sideways glances.

“How would we go home? They won’t let us on the bus,” Edmund points out.

Caspian smiles with one half of his mouth. “Hitchhike?”

“If you want to--?”

“I don’t.”

They laugh.

“Thank god,” Edmund confesses.

Caspian twists his dad’s ring round and round his finger.

“We’ll call my dad and say we’re at your place again, and I can probably get Peter to pick us up.” Edmund scrapes the soles of both his shoes against the concrete, back and forth. “I’ll owe him a million.”

“I think it’s worth it, though.”

“Yeah.”

They wait for Peter over milkshakes at a nearby cafe. Caspian puffs air through his straw, sending the wrapper straight into Edmund’s face. Edmund throws his balled-up straw wrapper right back.

They put too much vanilla in Edmund’s. He throws it away less than half-drunk.

-

Peter raises one eyebrow at them over his new sunglasses.

“Don’t,” warns Edmund.

“So you’ll wash this when we get home?” Peter tosses something into the backseat.

Edmund groans and pushes the gym bag off his lap onto the ground. “Yeah, yeah. Take us home.”

“Right away, sir,” Peter grouses, pulling onto the highway.

Edmund’s surprised to find he’s glad to be headed home.


End file.
